


Without Together

by yastaghr



Series: Scribbling is its own Language - Oneshots [32]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brotherly Angst, Cannibalism, Caring Dreamtale Nightmare Sans (Undertale), Crosstale Sans (Undertale), Dreamtale Nightmare Sans (Undertale), Dusttale Sans (Undertale), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Errortale Sans (Undertale), Found Family, Gen, Horrortale Papyrus (Undertale), Horrortale Sans (Undertale), Hurt/Comfort, Inktale Sans (Undertale), Killer Sans (Undertale) - Freeform, Manipulative Relationship, Murder, Murderers, Passive Dreamtale Nightmare Sans (Undertale), Poor Crosstale Sans (Undertale), Schizophrenia, Starvation, Synesthesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28064877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yastaghr/pseuds/yastaghr
Summary: Ink gets his hands on the soul of the AU where Nightmare's castle is. The gang is flung back to their worlds, their own code RESET but their memories and worlds not. Each of them fails to cope with this until they are rescued. Nightmare has the worst time of all of them.
Series: Scribbling is its own Language - Oneshots [32]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/667640
Comments: 36
Kudos: 121





	1. RESET

**Author's Note:**

  * For [avosettas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avosettas/gifts).



> This is the fic that Fate didn't want me to write! I've been sick, in pain, injured, exhausted, unmotivated, switching meds, and busy with other real life things so much that I almost didn't make the deadline! I just did it, though. Barely.

It was so rare for Error to fall asleep that, when he did, he was out cold. Usually he slept at Nightmare's castle, which essentially locked the Anti-Void to anyone but Blueberror and him. This time, though, he'd been so tired that he'd passed out in his beanbag. Bad mistake.

Error wasn't aware that Ink had gotten into his home until it was too late. It wasn't that Ink was bad. He was just... chaotic. Chaotic... chaos. Error woke up to the sound and sensation of hundreds of his strings being severed. He jolted upright. Ink was standing not far away, Error's collection of human souls gathered around him. He had an absolutely insane grin on his face, that one with the fangs and the black ink leaking from him. Error hated that face. It never meant anything good.

"Hey, glitchy! What would happen if I stole all these souls and took them to the Doodle Sphere? Just curious?" Ink asked, that face somehow trying to radiate innocence.

Error glared at him. "tHeY WoUlD ReSeT ThEiR StUpId wOrLdS. yOu kNoW ThIs."

Ink's insane grin spread even wider. Error scowled, the number of glitches and errors on his body growing like crazy. His left hand was reaching for his eye socket, but he knew it would be too late. It always was.

"Interesting. Well, toodles!" Ink said.

Just as he and all those souls fell through a giant ink puddle in the floor of the Anti-Void, Error spotted it. He screamed as he realized Ink had found _that_ soul. He kept it seperate from the others for a reason! How had he found it? Nightmare was going to be so pissed. Error opened a portal to Nightmare's castle... just in time to watch the world he had modified for his found family RESET.

"nO. nO, nO, nOnOnOnOnOnOnOnO!" Error screamed until his voice glitched out, his hands clawing at the portal, begging it to show him something different. It didn't. It showed him that cliched royal family that had lived there before Error's intervention. He spat and, with one flick of his wrist, sent his strings into the world. They invaded every room, insinuated themselves into the code of every person there, and then viciously ripped it to shreds. The screams that resulted were cold comfort to Error. He was too busy panicking. Where were his friends. WHERE WERE HIS FRIENDS?!!

=====

White. That was all Cross could see. White, white, white, white, white. He looked around slowly at first. This wasn't all that surprising a dream. He'd spent so much time in this gods-forsaken place, and it terrified him down to his soul. He knew Nightmare would be here to stop it any minute, though, so he just stood up and started ambling around. He wasn't quite sure why he'd bothered. There was nothing there. It was just... white. Infinite amounts of white.

After what felt like hours, Cross sat down with a huff... and noticed that it felt more painful than usual. He looked down at himself. Had they somehow missed an injury after the last battle? That was when he noticed it - or, rather, the absence of it. He didn't have his locket. He patted himself absently, then with growing concern. His bones felt different. All the scars and bulk he'd gathered when fighting his family and Nightmare's enemies... it was gone. Poof. Missing.

Panicking, he pulled up his own stats, desperate for the reassurance of that high LV. Instead, he found that he was at 1 LV. 1. 1! What. The. Fuck?

"now would be a great time to show up and get me out of here, boss. cause, um, this isn't funny anymore. i want to go destroy something with killer. heck, even paperwork would be better than this!" Cross pleaded.

There was no response. Why would there be a response? If there had been a response then Nightmare would already have been there, and Cross knew he never left any of them in their night terrors for too long, even if it was funny, after the incident with Dust and the giant carrot. So Nightmare couldn't be here yet... right?

What if he was here, though? He wouldn't have done this if it was one of the wild night terrors, no, but what if he'd made this one? Cross had been kinda pushy lately. "boss? i'm sorry if i upset you. can we talk about it instead of doing this?"

Nothing. Cross began to pace, mumbling to himself, "he wouldn't do this on purpose, would he? not unless i had been really bad. have i been really bad? i must have been... unless this is real. fuck, what if i never got out of this place? what if that was all a dream? what if i'm really stuck here in this nowhere place and i can't get out? oh, gods, what if i can't get out? if i can't get out then-"

"wElP, iT'S A GoOd tHiNg yOu'rE NoT StUcK HeRe, ThEn. InK ReSeT ThE FuCkInG SaFeWoRlD In yOu gUyS' sLeEp. CoMe oN, i'lL FiX YoUr cOdE OnCe wE GeT BaCk. JuSt gO GeT SoMe fOoD ReAdY. hOrRoR'S GoInG To bE StArViNg."

Cross spun around. Error had a portal next to him, a grimace on his face, and blood on his hands. So, business as usual. Cross grinned with relief and obeyed.

=====

Horror woke to the hunger. When didn't he wake to the hunger? Even in Nightmare's castle it followed him wherever he went. It was like a ghost, only not a real one or Dust's brother. No, it was more like a spectre at a feast, an ever present reminder that good times never last. He hated it as much as he loved it. Nightmare was the only one who seemed to understand.

It wasn't until he felt the pinecone bounce off of a piece of skull _that shouldn't have been there anymore_ that Horror knew something was wrong. His hand flew up, and, sure enough, his signature hole was missing... or the missing part of his skull was present, whichever made more sense. Horror sure didn't know.

He didn't know a lot of things. Right now the most important thing he didn't know was what the hell had happened to the hole in his head. Had Boss finally fixed it? Had Error snuck a "patch" into his code? What was it? He needed to know.

The first step to knowing was finding someone to ask. Horror got to his feet, shivering in the cold of Snowdin Forest, and started walking. He worked on the serendipity principle. If he needed to find someone he'd run into them eventually. It had worked so far, hadn't it? It had led him to all those humans and, eventually, to Nightmare and his crew. Why fix something if it ain't broke?

As it turned out, the first person Horror ran into was broken... sort of. It was his brother, Shanks, and he looked rough. Shanks looked like he hadn't eaten in weeks, and, when Horror thought back a bit, he felt guilty that that might really be the case. So he walked over to his brother and waved. "hey, paps. you hungry?"

Shanks bend his giant frame (and since when had he been so tall compared to Horror?) to see his brother better. Horror knew his eye sight was getting worse and worse every year. He hoped he could convince Shanks to move into the castle with them soon. He knew getting proper food multiple times a day again would help. Also, he knew Nightmare would take one look at Shanks' squinting and take him out to steal some glasses.

Shanks' voice rumbled down to Horror, freezing his DT-laden blood solid. "I DO NOT... RECOGNIZE YOU, SANS. ARE YOU ONE OF HORROR'S FRIENDS? DID YOU BRING FOOD FOR ME? HE HAS NOT VISITED IN DAYS."

Horror flinched. Fuck, that wasn't good. He never kept food on him when he wasn't coming to visit Shanks, and Horror definitely didn't remember that being the last thing he was planning on doing. Still, in what he knew was a vain vein of hope, he checked his pockets. There was nothing. "uh, heh, sorry, paps. i ain't got any food for you."

Shanks growled and wailed at him at the same time. "I'M STARVING! I NEED SOMETHING TO EAT _NOW_! YOU SHOULD LET ME EAT YOU! IT'S ONLY FAIR FOR NOT BRINGING ME FOOD!"

Horror shivered. He knew Shanks made that demand of every Sans who came to visit him, but... he really felt guilty about not feeding his brother on time. He sighed, closed his eye sockets, and nodded. "okay, paps. you can eat me. just some of me though. otherwise how can i bring you food in the future?"

The next thing Horror knew, a giant bag was whizzing past his head. It crashed into Shanks, knocking him over. Horror ran to his brother's side, only to find he'd been hit with a giant bag of... tuna fish sandwiches with too much tuna fish? His skull snapped to face the direction the bag had come from, knowing that only one person would make that as their first choice of food for him. Sure enough, Cross was standing not too far away, all small and weak like, with Error growling next to him. "dOn't eAt yOuR FuCkInG BrOtHeR, sHaNkS, iT'S NoT HiS FaUlT HiS CoDe gOt rEsEt aNd hE LoOkS DiFfErEnT. cOmE On, HoRrOr. We nEeD To gO GeT DuSt nExT. cRoSs wIlL FiLl yOu iN On tHe wAy."

"don't you mean we'll fill him in on the way?" Cross said archly.

Error rolled his one working eye light. The other seemed to be having a panic attack. "i mEaNt eXaCtLy wHaT I SaId, CrOsS."

Cross sighed. "that's what i thought."

Horror chuckled at the familiar banter, his whole skeleton relaxing in a way that most humans wouldn't understand. Yeah, things were back to normal. Annoyed Cross? Yes. Grumpy Error? Uh huh. Haunting hunger? Yup. Now all they needed was to find the rest of the gang.

=====

Dust woke up slowly, and that roused his suspicions. Usually Spectre, his brother, woke him up by yelling in his ear at the top of his voice. It was a routine they'd been going through since before he died. When he didn't do it he was always planning something in revenge for some imagined slight or disobedience. Dust really wasn't looking forward to finding out where it was.

He stretched and blinked, looking around his room...

His room was different. It wasn't his neat, calm, luxurious room in the castle. Nightmare made sure all his boys had the best of the best, even though he didn't pay a G for it. No, this was his old room... the one in Snowdin.

Dust jumped up, all laziness forgotten in the deep fear of a RESET. It couldn't be, right? Error had said he'd locked Dust's world so that bastard Demon could never come back. It couldn't have RESET. Unless... no, Error had died before and it hadn't RESET, so that wasn't it. But this looked like his old room, and...

"spectre? can you hear me?" Dust said quietly, hoping his ghost of a brother was nearby and not his living one. "i need you to talk to me for a minute. just say anything, please?"

Nothing was the response he got. He tried again, "paps, this isn't the time for a jape. i'm having a code blue moment, okay? i need to know you're still here."

His ghost brother failed to materialize. Dust gulped and went to open the door. He whispered to himself, "don't be alive, please, don't be alive. you're not going to be there when i open this door. nobody is, not from my world. stars i hope killer is just experimenting with torture techniques again. that i could handle."

Dust counted down inside his head, then flung the door open. No one greeted him from the other side. He relaxed slightly.

That set the tone for his whole search through the Underground. No one was to be found, not even their dust. He vaguely remembered eating it at one point to see if it would give him more LV. It didn't. He still ate it anyway, so not even their dust was waiting for him. His movements began to become more agitated. From agitated they moved into concerned, then worried, fearful, and, finally, panicked.

"there's no one there there's no one there there's no one there there's no one-" Dust mumbled to himself, the mantra deafening in his mind.

"{}well, that's because we're behind you, idiot. geez, it's like you people never bother to look around.{}" A familiar voice glitched and popped. Dust spun around-

And his weighted blanket was placed in his arms. Horror and Cross were standing there. Horror was looking at Dust with understanding and concern. Cross was glaring at Error, which was his usual way of looking at the Destroyer. Error, standing by an open portal with a code panel floating in front of him, was looking pleased as punch.

"damn it, error, why do you-" Cross began.

Dust's squeak interrupted him as, with a flourish, Error pressed a button and a wave of power swept over him. That wasn't why he squeaked, though. "HELLO, BROTHER~ DID YOU MISS ME?"

=====

Killer woke to an unfamiliar feeling: feelings. He felt overwhelmed with the colors and textures of them. Red and scratchy anger prevailed, but pewter blue, soggy despair and spiky-smooth, yellow happiness were also there. Those were just the three he could identify off the top of his head. Every single combination of color and texture in his brain was present.

Rather than get up to deal with this in a healthy way, Killer curled up in a fetal position under his own empty space and screamed.

He didn't want to do this. He hated doing this, and he hated that he hated it. His whole head was an entire clusterfuck of hatred and pain. Killer let it out by screaming and crying in the weird Void that was what was left of his AU. He couldn't stay here long, he knew, because the Void was hungry and rarely got to eat. Gasters that could survive in this place for more than an hour were never to be trusted. Not even as far as he could throw them.

"shit, killer..." a voice said not far away from him. He slowly faced it, barely putting in the effort to look at the speaker. That changed when he recognized who it was. He strained to reach Cross and use him as a grounding rod.

"crossy, what happened to nightmare?" Killer asked.

Cross shook his head. "error says the castle got RESET by ink. we've all ended up back home with our old bodies. i bet nightmare's stuck in dreamtale with that weird little purple persona of his. let's go rescue him!"

Killer grinned, his smile less creepy without the black tears. "yeah, lets~"

=====

The tree was dead. That was the first thing that Nightmare was aware of. The tree was dead and he was touching her. He was touching his dead mom.

Nightmare practically levitated off of the stump he felt responsible for and rolled onto the dead grass next to him. That was better. He wasn't related to the fucking grass. He went to lash out at it with his tentacles. It didn't work. He frowned and looked over his shoulder. The first thing he noticed was the complete lack of tentacles. The second thing he noticed was the purple shirt on his shoulder. The third thing he noticed was the lack of goop. The last thing he noticed was that he actually had depth of vision - which meant he had two eyes available to him, not one.

Nightmare reached up with a shaking hand to the eye that used to be gone. It was fine, perfectly normal and definitely unhappy to be touched. He let go, his hand trailing down his skull to his chin in an unconscious mimicry of two of his boys, Killer and Error. His heart ached. Gods, where were they? He couldn't feel them. He couldn't feel anything at all.

Nightmare wrapped his arms around his body to try and control the tremors that were shaking his every bone. It didn't work. Why would it? He shouldn't hide his emotions anymore and his body knew it. Hiding his emotions had led to the death of his mom.

Gods, his boys were all by themselves, weren't they? Killer had to be freaking out with all those emotions overwhelming him again. Horror was probably starving. Cross would be fine physically, but Nightmare knew that emotionally he was a nervous wreck. Dust... Dust was probably the least affected of them all. Nightmare hoped so. Someone had to take care of the rest of those idiots.

That was when Nightmare realized it. He'd already written himself out of their narrative. He must have known, even on a subconscious level, that he wasn't getting out of here. This body couldn't manage portals. He was trapped.

That meant that the only way he would be getting out of here was if someone came to rescue him, and Nightmare... doubted that would ever happen. He'd given his boys all the tools they needed to get better (by their own definitions) on their own. Why would they need him any longer? He was always so mean to them because he was afraid that if he got too close to them then they'd be used against him. He was sure they would be glad to be rid of him.

Nightmare got down on the ground and curled up near his mother as he had thousands of times before. Even if she was dead he still felt comfort near her. Then he began to cry, big wet, purple tears that made the dirt beneath him turn to mud.

"boss..." several voices said behind him, voices he'd never thought he'd get to hear again. He looked up frantically. There they all were, Horror, Dust, Cross, Error, and Killer, every single one of them looking like they were about to cry. Well, except for Killer, but he was always crying, so he didn't count. Nightmare sniffed and tried to stand up, but his legs refused to hold steady beneath him. He must have been crying for longer than he'd thought.

The next thing Nightmare knew, he was the center of a giant pile of hugs. The only monster who wasn't in the pile was Error, and he was typing in one of his code consoles like someone would die if he didn't finish what he was doing. Nightmare looked around with raw sockets at his gang- no, his family. they all looked so happy to see him. Damn it. He'd gotten attached anyway, hadn't he?

"ink reset the fucking castle with all of us in it, boss," his lieutenant's voice emerged from the cuddle pile like a bear from a cave in spring, "all of our code got reset and we got dumped back in our worlds. error got us. none of us were doing well with it."

"you were crying like a baby because you could feel, killer. that's more than not doing well with it. that's more like having a fucking breakdown," Cross corrected his... whatever the hell those two were.

Nightmare was instantly full of concern. "Oh, no. Cross, did you have an incident? I know how much being in your world-"

Cross gulped, blushing like mad, "maybe?"

Error, without looking up from his console, pointed at Horror. "hE WaS GoNnA LeT ShAnKs eAt hIm, ThE IdIoT. i vOtE We sTeAl hIm a pHoNe sO He cAn sEt hImSeLf rEmInDeRs, CaUsE I Am sIcK Of sHaNkS BeInG SuCh a wHiNy bAbY AbOuT FoOd."

"i was running around like a snowdrake with their head cut off looking for my brother," Dust admitted in a hoarse whisper.

Nightmare frowned. "Well then, we'll have to do something to Ink. This is not acceptable behavior in the least. Any ideas?" The smiles that followed made him feel warm inside his weak purple body in a way only Dream had done in his childhood. It felt... good. Maybe he could give up the tough act if it made him feel like this. Besides, seeing his boys smile made it worth it.


	2. Incomplete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Error's code patches fail, and the Bad Sanses have to deal with the aftermath of a dismal fight with Ink as their old selves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fic continues! I hope this keeps with the original tone, I've been fighting a migraine while writing it. Please enjoy!

"fUcK," Error said the moment they stepped back into the safe world that held the Castle. He could feel his code patches evaporating, and once again he was forced to watch as his friends were stripped of their powers. He scrambled to figure it out. Why wasn't it holding? It should have held! What the fuck was Ink doing with that soul?

Error watched as Killer crumbled, his emotions and his synesthesia overwhelming him and making him cry again. Horror's skull creaked and groaned as it grew back in. His panting showed more pain than most people's screams. Dust looked around frantically as he searched for something no one else could see. Specter must be gone again. Cross' body fizzled like a baking soda as the layers of scars and sturdiness dissolved, leaving him small and incredibly frustrated. Finally, Nightmare... Error watched his goop turn solid, almost the texture of an apple core, and then peel away. 

Everyone reacted differently. Nightmare shook like a leaf in the wind, then ran for a trashcan. Cross bent at the knees, winced as he hit the ground, and crawled over to a crying Killer to comfort him. Dust whined and hugged himself, closing his eye sockets and letting blue (Blue!) tears fall. Horror? He just groaned and lurched over to the couch, collapsing on it and very clearly not intending to move.

"fUcKiNg DaMn It," Error swore again. He was pissed at himself for not sleeping in the safe world, but he was also glad he hadn't been there when the code was RESET. Maybe Ink would have gotten into the Anti-Void anyway. If he'd been there, he would have been RESET, too. His glitched shard of a soul screamed at that idea.

"Error, what-" Nightmare asked, his voice raw and shaking. 

Error cut him off, not wanting to hear any more of that wrongness. "iNk dId sOmEtHiNg tO ThAt fUcKiNg sOuL. i'm gOiNg tO Go tRaCk hIm dOwN AnD FiX It. YoU StAy hErE. i'lL Be bAcK To fIx yOu sOoN."

He didn't wait around for them to react. He just opened a window in the code beneath him and fell through.

* * *

Nightmare stared at the place where Error had been. The truth was, he was worried about him. Ink and Error didn't get along. Hell, Ink was known to leave Error broken and bleeding after they encountered each other. At least, if they were alone, he did. When there were others around Ink tended to play the "forgetful, chaotic idiot" card. Nightmare wasn't sure if Error realized it, but Ink was doing it on purpose.

Out of habit Nightmare reached out with his powers to feel what Error was doing now. Too late he remembered that his powers had been taken away... but Error had fixed that, hadn't he? Or had something gone wrong again? Nightmare had just lost his corrupt- 

No, he wasn't going to think about it. He was going to think about how Error was scared and pissed off at himself and freaking out and- Oh, he could feel him. That was... interesting. Maybe it had just been something about Dreamtale that had prevented Nightmare and Dream from being able to sense the worlds beyond it. That would make sense. They had been children. They really weren't even ready to deal with the emotions of their own world, let alone other ones. They were only kids.

Well, he wasn't a kid anymore. If he wanted to go and help Error, he would damn well find a way to open a portal and do so himself. He called on his powers and... nothing happened. He tried a different way, trying to target a world full of negativity to jump over to... it didn't work. Well. Time for plan B.

"Cross!" He yelled, startling them all out of their bubbles, "Open a portal to Error, now!"

Cross didn't hesitate. He summoned his sword (successfully, too) and... fell over flat on his face from the sheer weight of it. Nightmare heard Killer giggle. It _was_ funny. Cross was usually so stoic. Well, usually. But this? This was not stoic.

"Sorry, boss. I didn't realize how heavy this thing was," Cross said as he gathered himself up off the floor.

Nightmare quickly hid his smile... then let it show. If he was going to be emotionally honest like he needed to be to keep them safe (unlike how he'd been that had made him into the reason his Mom was killed) he needed to let them show, even if they weren't going to fit his dark persona. It wasn't like he was in it right now, anyway. Right now, he looked like the weak little book nerd he used to be.

"Don't worry, Cross, I won't hurt you for that. We can hurt Ink for it instead," Nightmare said to the grins and cheers of his crew, "but to do that we need to get to him. Error is with him. Everyone try picking up Cross's sword, please. Now."

It was both funny and kind of sad to watch their attempts. Horror lumbered over, dragging his feet like he always dragged his ax. When he tried to pick it up, his arms popped out of their sockets. Nightmare forced himself to walk _slowly_ over to help him get them back in. He supposed there was one advantage to this form. In it, he could heal much faster. 

Dust's small hands couldn't even fit around the handle, so he was out. He looked so dejected, too. Nightmare found himself patting him on the shoulder before he could even think. Dust seemed to like it. He'd have to do it again.

Nightmare gave it a try himself, just for the look of the thing, but this form was used to lifting books, _maybe_ his brother, not something as heavy as this. He couldn't even lift it off the ground.

Killer was the one who was finally able to pick up the damn thing. He made it look easy, too. He not only lifted it, but he also spun it like a staff. Everyone glared at him. He smiled his usual smile and said, his voice slurring, "whaat? i used to wwwork out." 

The glares turned to frowns at that, but Nightmare spoke first, understanding the problem immediately. "Are the emotions getting to you again?"

Killer nodded, the tip of the blade dipping slightly. Cross jumped over and wrapped his arms around Killer to help support the knife. The look those two shared, as always, confused Nightmare. Did they hate each other? Love? A little bit of both? What were they to one another?

Then the moment was gone; Killer and Cross, together, sliced a hole into the fabric of reality and opened a slit into... Chimetale. Oh, no. Nightmare snapped his head to face Dust the moment the sound hit. Dust, who had spent so long listening to the voice of a phantom that didn't entirely exist, had the most sensitive hearing out of all of them. He _hated_ Chimetale. All of the discordant notes... well, for a monster with perfect pitch like him, that world was torture.

"Stay here, Dust," Nightmare quickly ordered to try and get his message into Dust's head before he put up his Cone of Silence. He failed. Oh well, then. Nightmare carefully signed the order instead. These hands were clumsy with the signs. He hadn't learned the language until after his Mom had died.

Dust immediately knocked and signed back, [I understand.]

Nightmare and he shared a nod. Then the Guardian turned around and, following his boys, leapt through the portal into chaos.

* * *

Horror, limping from the pink acid paint he'd been backed into by a devious Ink, carried the unconscious form of Error with relative ease. He may be worse for wear, and so might the rest of the team, but they had gotten Error back. That was pretty good, considering.

Nightmare was definitely the worst off of all of them. Nightmare didn't have any tentacles to defend himself in this form, and it had taken him more than half the battle to remember his staff could be a bow. That was when the tides of the battle had turned. Ink did not like feeling negative emotions. Scratch that. He would do _anything_ to avoid them. Absolutely anything.

Cross was the next worst off of them. His left arm was cracked and bleeding from his shoulder to his distal phalanges. He'd tried to stop Ink from crushing Error at one point by grabbing his brush with that hand. Normally he'd be fine. Right now, wasn't "normally".

Killer had gotten off lightly. He knew how to fight like he had before their timelines had gone wrong. He was a Sans. He could use bones, blasters, and blue attacks. Everyone else was jealous of this.

Error... Error looked awful. He had all the wounds that the others did and more. The spot on him that was the worst off was his ribs. Ink was insanely jealous of his soul, glitched and tiny as it was, and was always trying to steal it. Or maybe he was trying to destroy it. No one could tell. Error was in denial. It was a bad situation.

Dust looked at them and immediately set to work. It impressed Horror how quickly they were cleaned up, bandaged, fed, and sent to bed. Error had to be carried, but Horror was strong enough to do that. Error didn't weigh a whole lot, anyway.

It surprised him that he didn't have to be directed to it. Normally he couldn't find anything in the giant castle. It wasn't necessarily because it was giant. When he'd had the hole in his head Horror's memory had been horrible. If he could forget when to bring food to his brother, why wouldn't he forget how to find his room? Nightmare usually shadowed him after dinner until he got there safely. 

He didn't think they noticed how much he cared about them. They weren't about to call him out on it. They weren't sure he even knew. Well, until recently, that is.

Once Error was settled comfortably in his hammock in his room in the castle, Horror turned around to limp back to his room and sleep. Dust was waiting for him. He had a jar of balm and another jar with three candle wicks in a light purple wax in it. He handed them to Horror, then said, "here. put the balm on your foot and your head. your hole might be gone, but i bet you're going to have growing pains."

Horror chuckled and took the jars. They clinked together in his hands, the glass sounding nice and calming. "heh. you always know what's going on with me, don't you? my skull aches like crazy, but why the candles?"

"the candles are for your room. they should last the night. i'm sure you'll have night terrors tonight. boss won't be able to help like this. the lavender smell should help a bit," Dust explained.

Horror nodded, said, "thanks again," and limped back to his room to rest and await the coming day.

* * *

Cross was in the gym in the castle, sweat beading off of his skull. He had training dummy set up, one of the easier ones that complained less. Its personality trait seemed to be annoying. Not an annoyance, but just annoying to Cross. It reminded him of Killer. Even he wasn’t certain what their relationship was, and that was frustrating. Of course, Cross was pretty sure that Killer was in the same boat.

The gym was old style. Nightmare didn’t use it much usually; he had long ago perfected his fighting style. Of course, that didn’t apply anymore. His current form had a completely different style that suited it. It would be better suited to the long-range instead of close combat and a defensive style instead of an aggressive one. The gym itself matched what Cross thought Nightmare had been like when he first gained his goop. It was scary, but scared, huddling around a boxing ring that way too small. Cross now knew why. Nightmare had never said he was just a kid! 

If Cross had known that, well, things would have been different. Cross’s powers would _probably_ have allowed him to go back to when Dreamtale was young and rescue them. They deserved better than what their universe had given them.

Right now, that was what Cross was working towards. Not saving them as in their past selves but saving them as they were now. Nightmare was so much softer and willing to change in this form. Cross was _sure_ that he could get the brothers to reconcile. All they really needed was to have Ink distracted. Cross couldn’t distract Ink in this form - not as weak as he was right now. Therefore, he needed to train.

It was going pretty well until Killer showed up. It wasn’t even as if he said anything. He just exuded annoying. That energy, on top of the dummy’s, was too much for Cross. He carefully set his lightweight practice sword down and growled as he snapped to face his ene- no, not his enemy. That much at least Cross could tell. They weren’t enemies. Cross didn’t know what he would do if they were enemies. He wasn’t if he could… well. It was a good thing it didn’t matter.

"what do you want?" Cross asked, his voice grumpy and... squeaky?

Killer just chuckled; his own voice just as squeaky as Cross’s. That made Cross feel better. What didn't make Cross feel better was Killer's words. "calm down, kitty cat. i'm just here to join you. need to sharpen the old skills up, right? we can't let the boss get killed because of something as stupid as this."

Cross studied his face intently. What he eventually decided was that Killer was really being serious. "you _want_ to train? you? i have to drag you in here most of the time."

"yeah, and most of the time I whoop your ass," Killer truthfully countered, much to Cross's dismay, "this is different."

"how?" Cross asked suspiciously.

"because, kitten, boss' life is at stake. he could _die._ like, for real. he's told me about times where dream or he almost did when they were kids. that corruption was good for more than just stim toys," Killer said with a wink. Cross flinched. They had gotten in so much trouble for that.

Reluctantly, Cross nodded at Killer and picked up his practice sword, watching Killer carefully as he grabbed a pair of practice knives. "fine. en guard."

* * *

Nightmare was overwhelmed by this whole thing. Everything felt different without his goop. Textures, fabrics, sound, everything. It wasn’t entirely new, but it was unfamiliar. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time. Centuries, in fact.

The other that was different was food. He’d forgotten how good everything tasted without the goop adding its own taste. Battery acid was not the best taste. Scratch that, it was horrible.

Another good thing was how good the moonlight felt against his bones. Sunlight was more his brother’s thing, but he still enjoyed it. That didn’t mean he preferred it to moonlight. It was his element, after all. His symbol, too. The moonlight didn’t charge him up. No, it just made him feel at home. He’d forgotten what home felt like.

Nightmare was out in the moonlight for more than just pleasure. The castle had an enormous garden. Someone had to take care of it. He really enjoyed gardening, surprisingly enough. It reminded him of when he would tend to his Mom, the Tree of Feelings, back all those centuries ago.

This garden didn’t have any apple trees. He couldn’t stand the sight of them. No, what this garden had was scented plants. Lavender, cherry trees, roses, lilies, juniper bushes – all of them and more could be found in his garden. There was a reason for the scents, of course. Horror had such terrible dissociative episodes. The only thing that could pull him out of them was scents that were strong and natural. His world had been so dead; things like flowers and plants had long ago been eaten or forgotten, so smelling them would remind him that he wasn’t there and that he was real, that there were things outside himself that existed that were real, too. 

Nightmare couldn’t admit to himself before that he had made the garden for Horror. He’d had all kinds of excuses in his head. Without the corruption in the way, though, all of his excuses could fall out of his skull like the useless baggage that they were. Now he knew. This place was for Horror.

He’d been tending the roses when Dust came out to join him. Roses needed a lot of tending. They needed pruning, covering, deflowering, and fertilizing. So many things needed to happen for beautiful roses. Nightmare had had a long time to find out the right combination.

Before Dust could speak, Nightmare asked the question he knew Dust was dreading. “So, how is Error doing?”

Dust flinched. Nightmare could hear it in the way his slippered feet sat in the soil of the path behind the roses. Nightmare’s hearing was much, much more acute without the goop. His other senses were, too.

“he’s… improving?” Dust tried to make the best out of a horrible piece of news, “He isn’t in a coma anymore.”

Nightmare closed his eyes, almost sensing what was going to come next. “How is he feeling, then? How much has he healed physically? Are there any mental wounds?”

Dust really didn’t like that question. His breathing picked up in speed, and his emotions grew more negative. Nightmare tried to draw some of that away. He didn’t like it when his boys were feeling upset with themselves. 

“he’s in a lot of pain. that healer we kidnapped says that they had to use their strongest spell, and even with that he’s still in pain. horror has dedicated himself to bringing him ice packs. that seems to be the only thing that cuts the pain down at all,” Dust reluctantly admitted, “and as for the physical stuff, he’s healing. it’s slow, but he’s healing.”

Nightmare sighed. “Good. I really do hope that Blueberror comes to visit us soon. Error needs to be in the Anti-Void. That’s the only place where he’ll be able to heal faster.”

Dust coughed and said, “he says that’s a bad idea, boss. It was because he was in the anti-void unguarded that ink was able to get in. who knows what he would do if he found error in the state he’s in now. i don’t think error would come out of it in one piece.”

Nightmare laughed, but it was a bitter, angry thing. “No. No he would not. He’d better stay here then. None of us are in a state to protect him right now.”

Dust coughed again, but this cough was more cheerful. “at least we’re getting better at fighting again, boss. cross and killer have been in the gym constantly. they’ve been training to keep you sa- i mean, to keep us safe. yeah, us.”

Nightmare let the little slip slide. “Keep at it, then. Who knows how long we’ll be stuck like this. We need to be ready for anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on:
> 
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/yastaghr   
> Tumblr: yastaghr.tumblr.com   
> YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCFLombUzsxpc9Al6ITHPpLw   
> Twitch: https://www.twitch.tv/yastaghr   
> Site: https://yastaghr.com


	3. Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The soul is retrieved and the relationship between the boys and the Star Sanses evolves. It's not completely for the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter of this fic. Wish me well - I'm having surgery on the 17th!

Loud noises and the swelling surges of magic attacks filled the back of his attention, but Nightmare had other things to worry about. He'd lost his bow some time ago. It had been knocked from his small hands by a well-placed arrow of Positivity. Those hurt! Okay, maybe they didn't hurt as much as they used to, but they still hurt! Especially because he now missed his brother, and not just with his arrows. Nightmare missed the old Dream that would listen to him ramble about his latest book for hours.

Nightmare shook his head as another arrow of Positivity whizzed over his skull. He didn't have time for daydreams of hugs past. He needed to focus on not getting killed. The rest of his team was busy fighting Ink and Blue. He was on his own.

He spotted an opportunity to hide when he saw a ruined shed that still had a small tree growing out of the side of it. Underneath the roots of the tree was a little hollow, a space barely big enough for two monsters. He ducked into it and hoped (it wasn't as though he could pray. The gods of Reapertale all hated him) that Dream hadn't seen. He should have known that his luck wasn't that good.

He'd just wrapped his arms around his shivering frame (the goop had kept him better insulated than he'd thought) when he felt it. A small touch made him flinch. Oh, no. Dream must have found him. Now he was going to kill him, just like Nightmare had been trying to do for centuries. He was going to kill him and there was nothing that Nightmare couldn't do.

Then... Dream hugged him? He certainly felt his arms go around him, and the pressure mimicked that of a hug. What else could it be?

"D-dream, why are you cuddling me? We're enemies, remember? I demand that you explain yourself!" Nightmare's voice, which started out hesitant, slowly rose into a screech of injured dignity. He didn't need any hugs from Dream!

"Because every time I see you in that other form I can't help but think about how I failed you as your brother! In this form I can just love you like a brother is supposed to, Nighty. I want... I want to be a good brother to you. I feel horrible for having not seen how much you were being hurt. I... I just want you to be safe and happy and not destroying everything in sight," Dream said honestly.

Nightmare blinked at him, suddenly very confused. Dream had been attacking him every time they met since he'd been freed from the stone Nightmare hadn't meant to trap him in. "You... You want to be a good brother?"

"Yes!" Dream wailed, "But instead I'm a horrible one!"

"You're not-" Nightmare automatically tried to reassure him, "I mean... You're not. I'm the one who's a horrible brother. We were supposed to talk and work together, and both of us were supposed to be honest with our emotions. I failed at that. Not only that, but I accidentally trapped you in stone!"

"A-accidentally?" Dream stuttered, "You mean you didn't h-hate me for not protect-ting you?"

"NO!" Nightmare almost screamed at him in shock. "I didn't... I don't... I was scared and I didn't know what I was doing. I was a kid. So were you, for that matter! Neither of us should have been put in that situation."

"Are you saying it was Mom's fault?" Dream said defensively.

"Dream, Mom was a tree," Nightmare said, deadpan, "She shouldn't have been put in that situation either. No, it was the villagers' fault. They used and abused us and Mom until the very end. I... I snapped because they were going to hurt you to get me to stop them from feeling bad. Ever. Again. I didn't want you to be hurt!"

"Oh," Dream said, his voice quiet.

"So... You don't want to kill me?" Nightmare asked his own question after a while. He'd realized that Dream wasn't going to let him go anytime soon.

Dream grimaced. "No. I just wanted to get that stupid goo off of you. It made you act so different. It only existed because... Well, I thought it only existed because I failed as a brother. I guess I was wrong. But I didn't want it to exist anymore."

"I... I'm torn," Nightmare said, "between wanting it back and being glad it's gone. I miss not feeling sand in my joints, but I like feeling the warm sand beneath my feet. I miss how useful my tentacles could be, but I don't miss how often I would slam into something because of my covered eye. It's... Weird."

Dream giggled. "Why do you think I wear so many layers of clothing? I don't like sand either. Maybe... Maybe I can help you get over missing the tentacles by... Being an extra set of hands for you?"

Nightmare narrowed his eye lights at that, turning in the hug to stare at his brother. "Are you saying you want to come live in the castle with me? Why?"

"Maybe..." Dream said musically, "Maybe I want to cuddle with you more?"

Nightmare gave it serious thought. Dream was... Well, Dream. He'd make a mess like he always did. He'd charm everyone around him. But... Nightmare would get his brother back. "Okay. But your mess had better stay in your room!"

#

Blue dodged yet another blow as he tried to explain the situation to the three Sans variants once again. "IT'S NOT THAT I DON'T WANT TO FIGHT YOU! WELL... MAYBE IT IS. YOU'RE SO MUCH WEAKER NOW! I KNOW I'VE HURT YOU BADLY BEFORE, AND THAT WAS WHEN YOU WERE STRONGER! I DON'T WANT TO MISJUDGE A BLOW AND KILL YOU! THAT WOULD BE HORRIBLE AND WRONG. SO I DON'T WANT TO ATTACK YOU!"

"do you realize how insulting that is?" Dust leered at him as Horror took another swipe. "we're your enemies! you not wanting to hurt or kill us is so demeaning. we're not babies you know! we can still fight!"

Blue ducked and responded, "I KNOW YOU CAN, BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN I SHOULD BE THE ONE FIGHTING YOU! IF YOU'D JUST STOP ATTACKING ME FOR ONE MINUTE I COULD GO GET CLASSIC OR... NO, NOT CLASSIC. RED MAYBE? YEAH, RED. MAYBE OUTER, TOO. YOU COULD FIGHT THEM INSTEAD!"

All of the bad guys growled, stopping their blows for a second. "seriously? you think that's going to make us feel better?"

Blue grinned sheepishly. "MAYBE? IT WAS WORTH A _SHOT_ , WASN'T IT? I DIDN'T EXPECT IT TO _BLOW_ YOU OVER, BUT I WANTED TO _ATTACK_ THE PROBLEM AT ITS SOURCE. OH, FIDDLESTICKS. I PUNNED AGAIN."

All of the bad guys stopped fighting again, shocked. "you... you can pun?" Killer said eventually.

Blue blushed a bright blue and bobbed a bit. "I CAN. I'M MORE OF THE SANS OF MY UNIVERSE THAN PAPPY IS. I KNOW A LOT OF PEOPLE THINK OF ME AS A LESS MATURE PAPYRUS, BUT I'M NOT. I'M THE OLDER BROTHER AFTER ALL. SOMEONE HAD TO DO THE GROWING UP AND IT WASN'T GOING TO BE THE TODDLER."

Suddenly, Blue saw a spark of kinship in their eyes. He knew they all were older brothers, but did that really make him a part of such an exclusive club?

"you know... we only did what we did because of our younger brothers," Horror said slowly, enunciating every word in his strange way. "i gained lv by killing humans so my brother didn't starve. i rarely ate until nightmare took me in. he feeds me and shanks both now. he makes sure we don't go hungry."

"we went crazy in the resets. we wanted to finally make the world safe for our brothers," Dust said, "i killed mine because i knew he would always sacrifice himself to save others, and i couldn't let him do that if i was going to beat the demon. i thought i'd be able to reset to before i killed him if i beat them. i was wrong. it tortured me so much that i started hallucinating his ghost. i haven't seen him in so long now... i miss my little brother."

"my chara tricked me into thinking he was someone else; a threat, a danger, a target. killing him is what broke me," Killer admitted quietly.

"I KNOW," Blue admitted, "THAT'S WHY WE'RE FIGHTING YOU. WHEN WE DEFEATED YOU WE WERE PLANNING ON RESETTING YOUR WORLDS AND GUARDING YOUR TIMELINES FROM GOING BAD."

"heh. you do have some papyrus in you, don't you?" Horror said, chuckling darkly. "ink must have told you that. our worlds can't be reset. they killed their humans and took their dt. my kiddo died of old age, happy that they didn't die in the underground and got to live their life on the surface. ink knows that. well, he did. he might have forgotten. he tried to reset out worlds without our consent once before. it didn't go well for him."

Blue felt his mind fill with red rage. "OH, REALLY? I GUESS WE'LL JUST HAVE TO TEACH HIM A LESSON FOR LYING TO US."

"we?" Killer said pointedly.

"DREAM AND I. IF YOU WANT TO HELP YOU CAN. I KNOW INK HAS HURT YOU. HE USED US TO HURT YOU. THAT'S NOT OKAY," Blue growled.

All three of the bad guys stepped back a bit. Dust said, "we'll help you. he still has the soul that's keeping us like this. nightmare's suffering, and so is killer. error's been driving himself to pieces. we need to stop this before it goes to far."

#

It had started off so well. Error had surprised Ink from behind this time when Cross distracted his former manipulator by throwing a rock at him. "hey slimeball! watch this!" He shouted. Then he summoned his big knive with a huge flourish that he'd been practicing. Maybe he was trying to impress Ink. Maybe he'd been trying to impress Killer. Only he knew the answer to that.

While Ink was distracted, Error had snaked many of his strings around the artist. When Ink tried to turn around, Error snapped them tight, wrapping Ink's limbs in cuffs of string that were stronger than steel. Ink struggled for a moment. They didn't realize it was just a show. Ink was the only one in the multiverse who was strong enough to lift his brush. It wasn't because of worthiness. It was because of sheer, impossible strength.

With their target seemingly pinned, Cross and Error nodded to each other and summoned a plethora of bone shards. They launched them at Ink, certain they'd be turning him into a pincushion. Boy, were they wrong.

Ink broke the cuffs with ease the moment Error and Cross ceased to be able to stop them. He painted the fastest, sloppiest puddle Cross had ever seen (and he'd been fighting Ink for a long time now) and collapsed his body into it. Cross was drawing in the breath to curse at him when he remembered the attacks. He didn't register seeing Error yank himself up into the sky with his strings. He was too busy bracing himself for the impact. Too late he remembered that he wasn't the tank he used to be anymore. He had just enough time to swear before Error's attacks hit him.

Cross missed a bit of memory for a minute there. It wasn't that he was unconscious; no, it was simply that he was overwhelmed with pain. The next thing he knew was Error's strings trying to help him up.

"yOu'd bEtTeR NoT DiE On mE, pAnDa. NiGhTmArE WoUlD KiLl mE If i lEt yOu dIe!" Error muttered.

Cross grinned, literally punch drunk on the pain, and said, "i'm fine, error. we can fight on!"

Ink chose that moment to pop back up. Neither of them saw him. That wasn't good. He took complete advantage of their distraction and used his gigantic brush to throw acidic paint at them. Error was the first one to see it, and he tried to dodge behind a balster he'd created as a shield. Cross saw that he was still hit by the acid on his right arm. Fuck. They'd just gotten that healed! Cross didn't even think to keep himself safe in his altered mental state. He just was hit.

He staggered back in the failing grip of Error's strings. They couldn't focus on him with Error concentrating on attacking Ink. He'd shot several small blasters, the kind that looked like little freshwater crocodiles; it looked like he'd aimed them at Ink's hands.

Cross wasn't really paying attention. He was in _so much pain_. It wasn't something he could deal with anymore. He was starting to see black veins creeping across the edge of his vision. He was pretty sure he needed medical attention, like, now. They still needed to get the soul or else this whole mission would have been for naught, though.

In the distance that was probably only a few yards, Cross heard Ink's pain-filled, angry screech. Uh-oh. Ink usually started trying to kill someone when he made that noise. Error didn't deserve that again, but it wasn't Error that Ink went after this time.

Cross went from just being in pain to being pummeled by Ink's fists. Ink was insanely strong, and Cross felt his weak, acid-weakened bones snap under the blows. Now he was the one screaming... And he was the one putting on an act. Cross had long since ceased listening to the part of himself that felt pain. He couldn't stop it from making him loopy, but he could shove the feelings to the back of his mind, so he did. It was coming in handy now. He could see the outline of the soul and feel its resonance from where Ink had hidden it in his baggy white shirt. There was one corner of that shirt that had been pulled out from underneath his waistband. Cross took advantage of this to use some of the skills Killer had taught him; specifically, he was using his skills as a pickpocket.

It was relatively easy to get the soul out from inside Ink's shirt. He did it just in time, too, because, from one moment to the next, Ink had been heaved off of Cross and into a portal. Then Error was leaning over him and panicking badly.

"sHiT, cRoSs, YoU'Re bLeEdInG AlL OvEr tHe pLaCe. NiGhTmArE Is sO GoInG To kIlL Me. We dIdN'T EvEn mAnAgE To rEaCqUiRe tHaT SoUl!" Error moaned.

Cross triumphantly held out, with a trembling hand, the soul in question. "we did, though!"

Error stared at the soul as if he had never seen anything more disgusting. "gOoD. nOw lEt's gEt yOu bAcK To tHe cAsTlE FoR HeAlInG. yOu'rE In a wOrSe sTaTe tHaN I WaS WhEn yOu lOt rEsCuEd mE! fUcK, hOw dO We eVeN MoVe yOu?"

"I can heal him enough that he can be moved!" A cheerful voice said. It wasn't one of the gang. It was Dream.

#

Killer was in shock. The next few hours passed him by in a blur. It started when he saw Cross. Fuck. Cross was in _pieces_. The only reasons he wasn't dead were that a) they were skeletons, they didn't need to be in one solid chunk like other monsters, and b) the little bit of Nightmare's magic that he used to think they didn't know about would keep them from dying until they wanted to. It was a blessing and a curse. They couldn't die and were essentially immortal (which was probably why Nightmare had done it. None of them had been looking forward to him outliving them), but they could still feel every. Bit. Of. Pain.

So when Killer saw the state Cross was in, he knew he must be in agony. There was no way that that was a comfortable position. Sympathetic pains sprung up from his own past wounds in his screwed up, sickly green version of pity. This was not something he had missed. Not that he could miss before this. Heh.

Cross was bathed in a combination of gold and purple light. It felt... Worried. Both kinds of magic did. Killer couldn't quite place either magic user in his shock, but he could tell that much just by how staticky the light felt. He'd never been able to figure out if he was really seeing magic as light with his complicated understanding of emotion or if that was a part of his synesthesia. It was impossible for him to tell the difference between magic light and emotional light. Things was weird like that. Either way, it was something that had persisted through his emotionlessness, even as the emotions themselves were stripped away.

From there they seemed to move, not that Killer knew or cared. A blur was a blur everywhere. The only thing in focus was Cross. Then, after a length of time he couldn't have placed, Cross was gently set in a bed. Killer was pretty sure it was his own and not Cross'. Had he asked for that? He couldn't remember. He probably did. It sounded like something he'd ask for.

Whatever the reason, seeing Cross there made him feel like golden sunlight on a summer afternoon with several of his cats curled up around him, purring with all of their might.. It was good. This was good. He was happy. He'd forgotten what happiness felt like. It felt good.

#

Dream sidled up next to Nightmare, trying to be casual and not trigger another flinch. He succeeded, which definitely was a good start. He wasn't precisely _happily_ looking forward to helping his brother get past that, but it was definitely a thing he knew he was going to have to do.

"What is it this time, Dream?" Nightmare asked, his voice slightly weary. Well, he had just helped Dream heal a very bad bunch of wounds. Dream was tired himself.

"Um... You can tell me that I don't have any right to know this yet, but... What exactly is the relationship between Killer and Cross, exactly? I've always wondered but never been able to tell. Is it romantic or platonic?" Dream asked to satisfy his intense curiosity.

Nightmare actually turned to face him, a blank and blinking look blanketing his skull. After over a minute of nothing but blinking he finally said, "You know, I don't have any idea. I don't think they do, either. They've fought each other as well as killed for each other. I've never seen them kiss, though. If I had to put a name to it I would call it queerplatonic. It just... Is whatever it is. I don't think It matters much, though. They've been like that for as long as I can remember."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on:
> 
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/yastaghr   
> Tumblr: https://yastaghr.tumblr.com   
> YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCFLombUzsxpc9Al6ITHPpLw   
> Twitch: https://www.twitch.tv/yastaghr

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on:
> 
> Tumblr - https://yastaghr.tumblr.com  
> Twitter - https://twitter.com/yastaghr * Most active


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